


not so late

by ConvenientAlias



Category: Alpennia Series - Heather Rose Jones
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, First Time, Stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 12:14:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17446784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: Margerit is half asleep when she kisses Barbara in the library, which is her only real excuse. But the situation works out in her favor.





	not so late

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nisiedraws](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nisiedraws/gifts).



Perhaps Margerit’s only excuse was that she was half-asleep over her work. She had been probing Gaudericus for hours, and still there were points of it that not only did she not understand, but she blatantly disagreed with. Reading something that seemed logical and authoritative but still, at points, instinctively felt wrong… it was exhausting, and she had been at it all night. Though she had lost track of time, and had not realized nearly all the night had passed away until Barbara came to her side and shook her shoulder and pointed out that out the window, the sky had begun to lighten.

“Is it that late?” she asked.

“It’s too late to be late,” Barbara answered. “But your classes are in the afternoon today, and your other affairs are not urgent. You can still get some sleep. Here.” She gave Margerit her hand, and it was callused and warm and steady, as always, and Margerit floated up and kissed her, just like that.

Exhaustion was probably not a good enough excuse. It was a very blunt kiss, point-blank on the lips and much too slow to be friendly. But when she stepped away from Barbara, and realized she really had done exactly what she wanted to do after all, it was a lot like waking up—with a bucket of cold water to the face.

Barbara’s lips had parted, and she blushed. She seemed to be at a loss for words.

Margerit pulled herself together. “Well, I’ll be off to bed then. Thank you for coming in to remind me.”

She hurried off to her room, feeling Barbara’s gaze heavy on her back. Even when she shut the door and bustled herself into bed, she felt as if that gaze was still on her, hovering in the air. She felt hot as well as tired, a little aroused. But she forced herself to sleep before she could think more about it.

* * *

 

The next day—or rather, when she woke up later that morning—Barbara seemed to be in a brisk mood. She read off Margerit’s schedule to her several times, even though Margerit already knew her schedule very well and Barbara was her armin, not her butler. She kept a stiff, businesslike posture in the carriage to Margerit’s classes, and barely spoke as Margerit rambled about the day to come. Neither of them brought up the Kiss. They couldn’t, anyway—Marken was with them today, it being a busy day in the city and him having little else to do, and it was not the sort of talk to have with company.

She took good notes in class, still. Her hand managed that much automatically. Her brain was elsewhere. She was thinking more the type of things some of the other girl students might usually be fixating on, such as Amiz Waldimen or Cheris Riumai, except they would be thinking these things about the boys in the class rather than the armin waiting in the hall. The female armin.

Barbara.

Inappropriate in many ways, to think these things, and especially inappropriate to act on them as she had today in the early morning hours. Though to be fair, she knew Barbara was not averse to such attentions from women… but that was one thing, and interest in Margerit was another.

She bit her lip. She wrote down words without really processing them. She somehow survived to the end of the period.

And when it was over, she found Barbara and Marken out in the hall, leaning against the wall and making quiet conversation. She said to Marken, “Will you run ahead to the carriage, please? Have it pull up at the gate.”

Marken and Barbara exchanged a look and Marken left.

There were students crowding the hall. Margerit said quietly, “Barbara, you know where we can talk in private?”

Barbara nodded. Of course she did. Margerit went to class here, and it was arguably her domain, but Barbara insisted on knowing every building they entered on a regular basis like the back of her hand. Margerit had sometimes seen her examining floor plans, even. She led Margerit off to an empty office—empty even of papers and decorations, clearly abandoned for some time—and closed and locked the door behind them.

“This conversation could wait until we get home,” Barbara said.

So she knew what conversation it was going to be. “It could, but I don’t think it should. Aunt Bertrut will want to talk, and there will be things to do… besides, it’s not much more private there than here. In a way.” And she didn’t want to wait; that was the main bit, but she was trying to sound reasonable. Though reason seemed to have deserted her today. She wet her lips. “Barbara, what I did this morning…”

Barbara cocked her head. So she wasn’t going to make this easy.

“…I hope I did not offend you,” Margerit said.

“I am not so easily offended. However, in general, if you want to kiss someone, I would recommend asking them first,” Barbara said. “Maisetra.”

Margerit bit her lip.

Barbara crossed her arms. Before, her expression had been carefully neutral; now it looked slightly annoyed. “You know carnal indulgence is not within the duties of an armin, even if that armin is your property.”

“Of course! I didn’t… well, I hope I didn’t impose. I was very tired last night, and I don’t think I was thinking clearly…”

Barbara sighed. “I could see that.”

“Well, I apologize if I offended you.”

“As I said, you did not. I merely am informing you that I will not regard kissing you as one of my duties.”

“Ah.” Margerit considered the statement, and decided it was fair—and, in fact, not entirely negative. “Well, what if I wanted to kiss you as apart from your duties?”

“I would warn you that such indiscretions are not always wise for a woman new to society, Maisetra.”

“Well, what if we were discreet?”

Barbara tilted her head.

Margerit’s face felt hot. “Obviously it is your choice. I wouldn’t want to… well, but you will no longer belong to me in a few months anyhow, and I think you can make your own choices. And I… Well…” She wanted to say, _you know how I feel, Barbara_. But then, she wasn’t sure Barbara did. She wasn’t even sure she did, for that matter.

“All right,” Barbara said.

“…Yes?”

Barbara nodded firmly. “But we will be very discreet. Nothing here, nothing anywhere public. Not even in the library—it doesn’t have a lock. But… if you really want it, I can come to your room tonight, and we’ll see.”

“Ah. All right then.” Margerit put out her hand, and they shook on it. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was shaking on—her vague fantasies aside, she knew little of what women did together. But Barbara seemed to know something of it. So…

Tonight, then.

They went to the carriage, where Marken and Barbara exchanged looks again, a message that Margerit could not quite discern.

* * *

 

Barbara arrived in Margerit’s room roughly an hour after she retreated there. Not everyone in the house was in bed yet, but Barbara informed her that Aunt Bertrut was, at least—and otherwise, she said, it was sometimes worse to be too discreet than risk someone noticing a late visit. An armin sneaking into her room would be much more suspicious than Barbara simply coming up to visit. Barbara came to talk to her often enough, both here and in the library. And it had always been innocent before.

Today was entirely different, though, Margerit thought. From the moment Barbara walked in she couldn’t keep her eyes off her; she was hypersensitive to her every movement. The door clicking closed and the curtains being drawn raised her heartbeat, and the even tones of Barbara’s voice washed over her like warm water.

“…so, have you changed your mind?” Barbara asked.

Margerit shook her head. “I know what I want.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” Margerit said—it came out a little snappy, and she repeated in a calmer voice, “yes, I know what I’m doing.”

“Well, don’t worry too much about it.” Barbara’s eyes scanned her. Abruptly, she sat down on Margerit’s bed. “You might start by taking your dress off.”

“Oh… all right.”

She half expected Barbara to get up and help her with the ties. But Barbara simply watched as she undid the back and slipped the garment off. She was left in a chemise, stockings, and drawers—hardly naked. But she still shivered at the way Barbara looked at her.

Barbara patted the bed next to her. “Now, sit down.”

Margerit sat.

Barbara, in turn, got up. She knelt in front of Margerit and grasped her calf. It was an odd place to touch someone. Her hands were sure, though, and almost professional, as they reached up under the chemise to a little above her knee to grasp the top of one stocking and slowly peel it down, revealing the light skin underneath. Barbara paused after dropping the stocking on the floor and kissed the leg squarely in the middle, right over the bone. Then she disposed of the other stocking the same way.

“Did you, uh… did you learn how to do things like this from Jeanne de Cherdillac?” Margerit asked.

Barbara sat down next to her again. “Don’t you know not to ask about who your partner’s been with? Not during the act, at least.”

“I didn’t think we were quite to the act,” Margerit said.

“We’re not, but we’ll never get there if we don’t focus.”

“Ah… we can’t talk as we go?”

“I’ll talk about anything you like,” Barbara said, “except for Jeanne de Cherdillac. I’m not thinking about her.” She took Margerit’s hand. “Do you understand?”

Margerit nodded. Barbara kissed her hand. “Then, off with your chemise.”

This was a bit of a scramble. Barbara pulled at it, but she didn’t seem to want Margerit to get off the bed, which made things awkward. The chemise almost ripped, but at last it was removed and tossed aside. The drawers actually did rip a little—Barbara was getting impatient. She apologized. Then those were thrown aside too.

And now Margerit was naked. But Barbara was close, so close, and she didn’t feel cold or even as vulnerable as she had before. Only excited, and, as Barbara lightly squeezed the back of her neck, a little bit wet.

She hoped that didn’t mean she was too easy.

Barbara said, “And you’re still sure?”

“I would think by now it should be clear I know my mind,” Margerit said tartly.

Barbara chuckled.

Unceremoniously, she grabbed Margerit’s legs and heaved them up onto the bed. She spread them apart and knelt between them, her own legs tucked neatly under her. As Margerit breathlessly watched, she ran her hands up Margerit’s thighs to her hips. Then she squeezed—hard—and then she was suddenly moving forward, and their lips were meeting, and Margerit instinctively closed her eyes and lost herself to the moment—

And then one of those hands left Margerit’s hip and quietly brushed through Margerit’s brush against her labias, and Margerit inadvertently bit down, forcing a gasp out of Barbara, who pulled away. Well, her head pulled away. Her hand dipped a little bit lower, fingers swirling against wetness.

“You’ll have to be quiet now,” Barbara said. “There are still people up, remember? Maitelen…”

“I think you need that reminder more than me,” Margerit muttered furiously. No, it wasn’t anger, exactly, she was feeling, just…something, and that something was intense and mastering…

She climaxed in a shorter amount of time than she would have predicted. Barbara smiled, satisfied, and sat back a little while she recovered.

“…well, that was something.” She began to reach for her nightgown, which she kept under her pillow, but Barbara stopped her.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind, I thought… it is not so late.”

“Isn’t that…”

“…it?” Barbara finished for her, raising an eyebrow. She grinned. “Maisetra—”

“Margerit,” Margerit insisted, it had to be Margerit if they were doing this.

“Margerit, you still have a lot to learn. It’s a good thing you’re so studious.” The grin was almost predatory.

Margerit shook her head, but she couldn’t help but smile. “All right. But isn’t this a bit unequal? Here I’m naked and you’re still fully dressed. Let me at least…”

She pulled at Barbara’s cravat. Not something she wore every day, but on days that required formality, and apparently she had decided today was one of those for some reason. The knot was complicated. She went to work at it. But no sooner was she done than Barbara was pressing another kiss on her.

They would never get anything done this way, she thought as she worked blindly at Barbara’s collar buttons. Oh well… She would follow Barbara’s lead, and see where the night took them.


End file.
